NightFall: Book One: Bloodlust Is the Cure for the Immortal Soul (15 page)

Van sat at his usual table long after the club had closed. He sat, turning over tonight’s events in his mind. The one woman who kept appearing in his thoughts: Simone. He closed his eyes. Simone. He had found her. The one he had been looking for for over one hundred years.

He contemplated his next move. He was the only one-besides Saldivar, of course-who knew she was the Eternal Entity. What concerned him most about the issue was how to broach the subject. They were living in the twenty-first century and as odd as people acted these days, talk of being a vampire was still kind of taboo. Even saying that you are a vampire as a joke warranted strange looks with some saying it’s a mental disorder and that person needed to be institutionalized. The one time looking like a vampire was truly accepted was at one of America’s holidays: Halloween. You could be anybody on this day and be ‘in’.

That is why he and Saldiva
r decided to build
a club suited to people who acted out of the norm on a regular basis. Not just for one day out of the whole year. In the real world, they were rejects, the
‘
misunderstoods
’
. Here, they were accepted. No questions
asked. In fact, the wei
r
der
one was at this club, the better. As long as they didn’t break the law, that is.

It also made
it easier finding a mate who accepted and appreciated you for who you really are. No worries about a facade here. The facet of their club was strictly for those purposes.

Van sat back in his chair. A plan would form soon. He was to meet her tomorrow at nightfall.

“Thinking of Simone?” Saldivar’s rich voice cut into Van’s concentration.

“Yes. I’m to meet her at the Louvre Museum eight tomorrow evening.” Van knew he didn’t have to tell Saldivar and Saldivar didn’t have to ask. They’ve conversed mentally many times since that night in Paris during the 1700’s. It took some training but Van mastered it faster than Saldivar would have expected.
As Saldivar once quoted: “I am still learning every day”.
Van was also still learning as well. Just thirty years ago when Saldivar had turned seven hundred and seventy-seven-as luck would have it-he had mastered the art of Invisibility and was able to stay in that state for many hours now. Van himself could only turn into a chameleon, so to speak. He could
Blend
into his environment. Saldivar, however, could completely disappear. Van had tried.
So far, nothing.
Van was just three hundred and thirty one years of age. He was younger than Saldivar when he mastered the chameleon state. Little by little, he was getting there. Saldivar expressed his proudness of Van for catching on quicker than any other vampire he has ever known. Van reminded him that he had had a great teacher. He still did.

In the 1770’s, Van went to the United States. It seemed to him that England and the U.S. were in a b
attle. The U.S. wanted freedom; w
anted their independence. They were tired of being ruled by England. It sounded a lot like when France wanted to be ruled only by kings who were of French blood.

In Van’s opinion, he believed each country should have the right to govern themselves and no other. And that each country support their own people and made sure they were strong before helping other countries. It should be France for France.
America for America.
And England for England.
There were already enough problems in this world.

Eventually, a declaration was signed on July fourth, 1776. He saw Thomas Jefferson sign but, unfortunately, he could not stay for the rest. He allowed himself the privilege of watching this historical event by Blending. It was a momentous occasion. The U.S. finally found their sovereignty. He was glad for them.

He stayed in America for about ten more years. He kn
ew he had to leave after that
, or
else ris
k suspicion. He moved around so many years at a time. If he stayed longer than was necessary, people were bound
to wonder why he never aged. Why he n
ever had a wrinkle or gray hair. He moved to Scotland for a while.
Then Aus
tralia.
He landed back in Paris
just three years ago. He figured he had another seven years or so before he decided on his next destination.

Maybe Ireland,
he thought, images of Simone popping into his head.

“Reliving the past again, are we?” Saldivar needn’t question. He was reliving it just as Van had even though he had not been with him on this particular pilgrimage.

“As usual, Saldivar.”
Van chewed on a fingernail for a second. “What did you do while I was away in the States? Where did you do?”

Saldivar took a seat across from Van, crossing his legs. “I stayed in Frankfurt, Germany for a little while.
Absorbed some culture.
They have a very unique
language and it has
a harshness
to it even when kind words are spoken. It was a nice place. Very different from anything I’ve seen. As for what I did there.
The usual.
I kept to myself. You know as well as I that my solitude is sacred to me.”

“Until now,”
Van stated perceptively.

“Looking into my mind,
mon ami
?”

“Indea Sky. She would certainly a
ffect your life of seclusion,”
Van said, knowing he was right on target. “She’s the one, isn’t she? The one you have waited centuries for?”

Saldivar ran his thumb and index finger back and forth across his chin. Moments passed before he answered. “Yes. She is.”

“Wh
at they say is true, I guess,”
Van said.

Saldivar raised his brows in question.

Van smiled and clarified his statement. “
That opposites
attract. She’s outgoing.
Social.
A typical extrovert.
You, on the other hand, prefer your isolation. Even you said so yourself. Your solitude is sacred to you. If Indea decides to be your life mate, what becomes of your solitude then, Saldivar?” Van wanted to know.

Saldivar shrugged and pointed a finger.
“First things first.
Getting Indea and Simone to be our mates.
And we can’t use
Persuasion. We can’t intrude by reading their minds, either. And I can’t use Invisibility.

“Or Blending,”
Saldivar added. “We cannot
Blend
to check up on them. We have to let them get to know use normally. Let them take their time and be comfortable around us. It has to be their decision on whether or not they want to se
e us. It has to be on their
terms.”

Van sighed but understood. Before he had made the ultimate decision to become a vampire, Saldivar did not persuade him in any way whatsoever. Had he done so, Van would have despised him for t
urning him against his will. If
Van turned Simone without her approval or knowledge, it could be considered assault. Nothing good could come of it.

Yes, he definitely understood a person’s full right to decide on what is truly best for him.

Saldivar rose as he spoke. “Light will be showing soon. I will see you tonight. Good night, Van.”

“Sleep well, Saldivar.” Van got up from his seat and locked the doors of the club and left for home.

*

Simone slipped under the plush comforter. The bed was mighty inviting. Indea’s parents always kept the rooms on the cool side. She loved it that way. Keep the room cool and snuggle under the sheets.

As heavenly as the bed felt, Simone still had considerable trouble getting to sleep. Her mind kept going back to Van Pirone. She closed her eyes and his handsome face and attractive body flashed in her every thought.

He was so sexy.
So hot.
So…..mmmmmm……manly.
His bright gray eyes, almost cat-like in nature belied the rest of him. Bright were his eyes. Dark and enigmatic was the rest. He was quite the contradiction.
Dark hair.
Dark clothing.
Deep, dark voice.
You’d think he was patronizing and full of himself. She was
elated to know he was charming and a perfect gentleman.
And so downright considerate.
Given the way he looked and acted, she reckoned he came from a well-bred family.
Very well-to-do.

His skin was pale but s
mooth and taunt. He couldn’t be
much older than she was. He didn’t have a single gray hair or a hint of a wrinkle anywhere on h
is face. His lips were plump and
as red as a
ripe
berry. She wondered if they tasted as sweet as one. Did they feel as smooth as th
ey looked? Would they glide lik
e velvet over her skin?
On her neck?
Maybe lower?

Van was over six feet tall and he was of medium build. She couldn’t tell exactly because of all those cumbersome looking clothes. They were nice clothes. She just wanted to see him in a bit less. Surely his body would make any red blooded woman hyperventilate. She’d only talked to him briefly and saw just his face and she’d practically melted like ice cream on the fourth of July.

Just thinking about him now made the covers too warm for her. She pushed off the comforter and left a light sheet.

Half an hour later, Simone finally let sleep claim her, thinking of how Van’s lips would feel on hers.

*

Indea was pacing the floor of her bedroom, Saldivar on her mind.

He left!
She thought incredulously. That’s the first time in her entire life a man
just upped and left, e
specially without saying good-bye.

She couldn’t believe it. Had the tables turned? Was
he
playing
hard to get? It must be working already. She wanted to see him again, most assuredly.

No doubt about it, one handshake and he had her mojo going. His lips on her hand and her heart jumped into her throat. She was speechless. Unbelievable! She couldn’t think of one single thing to say to him when she did have the opportunity. Telling him she was okay and thanking him for helping her really did not count as conversation.
But as far as making said conversation?
Forget it. She must
have left her tongue at home, w
hich was weird. She was never tongue-tied when it came to the opposite sex.

There was no way on this earth she would ever forget what he did for her when she found out what a harassing sleaze ball Michael turned out to be.

When she looked into Saldivar’s eyes, she felt protected. She didn’t think that was possible. Sure, with other men she, maybe, had some feelings of security. With Saldivar, it was almost instantaneous.

She’d never seen eyes colored quite like his. It was like amber thousands of years old. The color was ancient and warm, framed in mile long sooty lashes and black eyebrows. His hair was deep ebony.
Inky black.
Her fingers itched to run through the dark locks. She wanted to pull his head down and kiss his full and luscious lips thoroughly.

She wanted him.
That, she was sure of.
He was like a fever in her blood. No man has ever affected her
that way, e
ven when she’d gotten to know them. All she knew about Saldivar was minute. She knew that his name was Saldivar.
He saved her from Michael’s groping hands and wandering mouth. Every time she though about it, it gave her a chill.
And not in a good way.